Misguided Ghosts
by Avrilgen
Summary: [Tony Stark/Pepper Potts] A single moment can be everlasting. Tony Stark learns this as he withstands the repercussions of a love he thought would destroy. When a new threat arises, welcoming with him the hatred and the hidden secrets, how will the Invincible Iron Man deal with it while it holds his heart? A story where love is proven to be once again the dire, devastating thing.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: **I own nothing from Marvel Characters to the MCU or anything Marvel related. Only my story and giggles and cries.**

...

 _Misguided ghosts  
Travelin' endlessly  
The ones we trusted the most  
Pushed us far away  
And there's no one road  
We should not be the same  
But I'm just a ghost  
And still they echo me  
They echo me in circles_

 _ **Misguided Ghosts**_ _{Paramore}_

…

 **XxXxXxX**

 _ **Misguided Ghosts**_

 **XxXxXxX**

 _Prologue_

Hot, hotter, warm _, warming_ , burn, _burning._ That was what she was feeling. All the emotion summoned into a simple splattered contact. For years she thought, she _dreamt_ with this moment being awkward or prickly but the only thing her mind was doing was signaling her at that time in the past how that the idea of kissing Tony Stark was _too_ unreal for someone as her to be dreaming for, hoping, pouring her heart for it.

Her own mind was trying to protect her from the disbelief of all.

But here she was, mouth open, a hand pressed tightly on her waist almost like—she felt _**it**_ — it was _digging_ down on her skin, warming it with every beat of her heart that was close _, so_ close to his. She felt like flying through the sky right now. Her heart beating miles per second, her lips were becoming swollen because of _his._ His _lips_. A laugh almost bubbled within her chest. Instead, a smile crept from the corner of her rose-colored lips.

This was her place to be. In his arms, lips locking hers, mind blank and heart fulfilled.

A flash. It felt like a flash. It was so sudden, _so_ fast, she almost stop kissing him.

Realization dawned on her, like a captive set free she let the words come out as a soft murmur.

He stopped.

She did too. She wanted to say them louder.

Both of them were breathing in short gasps. Tony, still in his armor, leaned against the railing his eyes traveling from building to building in a quiet stare as he equaled his lost breathing. A minute passed, her anxiety was becoming unbearable by now. With all the bravery Pepper could managed she took a hesitant step forward but soon when he turned to see her it became a little wobblier.

Pepper shook her head trying to get read of the grogginess of the kiss and the gentleness in his stare and the shape of mouth, the remembrance of the _wild_ softness of it—

"Tony?" Pepper called softly. Her hand came to rest across from his.

"Pepper?" Tony mimicked her tone. A tentative smile crossed his features. Her heart felt like soaring out. But as soon as the desire came it stopped because his smile dropped like stone did to the ground. "Pepper." Tony said, a serious tone forging his words.

"Yes?"

"I—" Tony took a step forward. "I don't know how to explain this. I mean, it's complicated and—" He laughed shortly. "I guess all related about us is complicated or not?" he teased with a weak smile. Maybe she was mistaken but she saw something breaking in him.

"Of course." Pepper laughed too. Her hand uncurling her hair. It was a mess anyway.

"So," Tony said after a pause. "Where should I take you?" he said casually.

"What do you mean?" Pepper replied instantly. "What are you saying?"

She blinked. Not quite getting what he just said. Maybe she did.

"I mean," Tony chuckled nervously. A hand soothing his goatee "It's late, we just survived a living _hell_ of a night and I'm sure you dealt with plenty for now. A good night rest would suffice you for all the heavy load tomorrow would bring us." At the end of the speech he blinked up at her, or maybe _down_ at her since he was a feet taller in that towering suit.

Pepper fidgeted with her hands on her stomach. The world was losing edges.

"I, that," Pepper stammered, her heart dropping. "Is . . . is _that_ all you have to say?" she asked quietly. Her eyes were pleading. She felt like jumping from the roof right now.

Tony looked to the sides. While puffing air he turned to her grinning that playboy smile of his. That only made the blow worst. "Is there anything else I should be speaking of?" he asked while he played with the right gauntlet of his suit.

It would've been better if he had slapped her.

Pepper stood there, between the cold and fresh air of the night, until that moment she finally sensed the real meaning of everything.

It meant nothing to him.

The night.

The roof.

The talk.

The _kiss._

A sob almost slipped from her mouth. Something cool fell over her skin, soon enough she knew, there was a small tear that found her way to her cheek. Hastily, she cleaned it.

Like her heart, it was gone in a flip of hand.

Tiny, reassuring and ruined was her smile.

"The Penthouse in the upper city would be fine. Damage didn't left this part of the city after all. Right?"

"Thankfully right." Tony replied in a beat. He smiled at her, shrugging the situation like it was nothing. He bended down to fix and check his rocket boots. Pepper bit her bottom lip, daring herself to maintain appearances.

Appearances, disguises and lies.

Tony stood up and clap his metallic hands. "Well Miss Potts up for another ride?" he asked enthusiastically albeit tired he always seemed ready to knock a bottle of scotch in one go.

She felt like it too.

"I think I can manage it for myself." Pepper laughed lightly _._ The sound reverberated rotten in her. _Appearances._ "I just evacuated around 500 people from an exploding expo, I think I'll be just fine if I go by the stairs. Besides, I doubt _that_ can fly more than a couple of buildings." She gestured the whole armor, pointing to the blackened marks scattered around it.

There was a flash of something in his stare. In seconds it was gone. "You should have more faith in me, Pep." Tony jested while feigning mock sorrow. "I'm wounded you don't trust my time-edging technology after so many miracles."

Pepper did believe in them. She believed in his intentions rather than his actions. She hoped for his life rather than his bank accounts and leftovers. She loved him despite he didn't for a single second.

The kiss would be her death song forever.

"Miracles don't happen twice" Pepper replied instead, her back already to him, her heels clicking on the empty roof. Each step marked with a lone word. "Not for me."

Before he could replied, he thrust into the air, leaving only misguided ghosts behind.

Pepper threw open the door.

Now she knew what being in love was for.

It meant being _pain._

Tears were streaming down her face as she descended. Pepper gasped as her heart gave another painful twist inside her chest. Without being able to hold anymore she let herself fall.

Maybe, it will have been better if he had let her fall after all.

Sometimes living wasn't worthwhile.

" _Sometimes you're not worthwhile for things."_ Pepper whispered bitterly as she chuckled despondently.

She was pain.

They say love can break every rule ever designed.

Break any boundary, fence, trap you found yourself in.

They say love would save us at the end.

Then, why has **love** _broken_ her to shreds?

 **XxXxXxX**

 **TBC…**

 _Aprilgen98_


	2. Chapter 1

_**XxXxXxX**_

 **Misguided Ghosts**

 _ **XxXxXxX**_

 _Chapter 1_

"—good morning to everyone and everybody who's watching us from the east coast. Today's early news are strangely enough about Stark Industries once again." The image behind the bubbly blonde pounced into zoom as it displayed a muted video. The reporter smiled sweetly.

"As you can see the man behind the suit of power finally showcased himself to the glorious light of news yesterday's morning at the conference that took place at the Press Seminar Room at the Stark Industries HQ of New York. Place where the white soul of the Man of Iron shone again as we heard about the mentioned previously fallen Hammer Industries, the implicates of the attack on the Stark Expo and the issue of the new sidekick the Invincible Iron Man's considering to have. "

The reporter, without blinking, rifled between several cards she had at hand. "Amazedly enough they weren't any exciting news at all, _aside,_ of course, of the quite precarious decision of the executive board of SI to preserve with their current and late-newly acquired CEO, the _famous_ Pepper Potts."

The woman's cool smile flipped a little as a smirk trespassed her features. The video fast-forwarded. "The sweet Miss Potts may found her new toy in risk if she doesn't act fast. Tony Stark isn't able to be quiet for very much time after all. Well, fellas, as we all may know the unique reputation of Mr. Stark and seeing as Miss Potts description of outstanding and _perfectly_ -detailed abilities we can only conclude—"

"Oh god." Pepper leaned against her magony desk. "Mute." She instructed in what was extreme displeasure. The TV complied swiftly the command. In annoyance she saw how the woman kept chitchatting and jabbering jovially, in a flippant move with the control remote she turned it off without a second thought.

One second; she grasped one second from her neckline scheduled time to inhale real amounts of air. Her chest heaved the breath out in a spur of dizziness. Vertigo, it felt more like it. That was one of the reasons why she decided to allow herself to sit down and really, allow herself to think.

Suddenly, she hopped on her place, her heart racing. A quick apology made her flew open her eyes. Her hand was, curiously enough, covering her heart, trying to placate it.

Happy stopped short. His hands gesturing wildly "—I'm so sorry, Pepper. I didn't know you were . . . I apologize, really, I just, I should have knocked—"

Pepper raised from her seat, she stepped and spoke quickly to reassure him. "I'm alright, Happy. It's okay." She smiled in what she expected was a convincing matter, it came more as a grimace. "I mean, you did help me hurled me out of my head. But no harm done" Her hands were lifted, she twisted them. "See, no. harm. done. I'm okay."

Happy didn't speak, he simply shook his head. "I'm still sorry though, I didn't meant to scare you off."

"You didn't—"

"What were you thinking of?"

Pepper closed her mouth amid her next sentence. "Pardon me?"

Happy sighed. Instead of replying to her directly as he usually does, he moved forward, taking a seat on the dark-brown canapé that found his place on her office among her taste.

When he spoke the words were calm and quiet. A distant contrast to the words of the cheery and dreadful gossip reporter she was listening to. She was still trying to figure out how she ended watching _that_ when her main goal was searching for the weather channel.

Outside her window, when she was staring, she found herself staring to the bodies of clouds that wheeze freely on the far horizon, they seemed to her dull and _duller_. Maybe, for a second she expected them to bright and shone with the sun behind them. But they were empty and soulless. No radiance to gleam with them.

Was it wrong she found her simile?

A voice brought her back.

"Common Pepper, we are friends, aren't we? I know, really, I do. I know you're now my boss and I highly respect that but . . . can you please not leave me out? I meant to tell you this because I've seen you during all this last week." Happy paused deliberately, searching for her eyes. He blurted out hurriedly. "Is something wrong? Is it your mother? Are you sick? Please tell me you're not sick."

Pepper smiled sadly. Even if it seemed impossible, Happy looked even more concerned.

"Pep?"

Almost, Pepper did almost flinch with the name. She waved a dismissive hand at Happy. "Listen, Happy, don't worry. Answering your questions my mother's perfectly fine as so my health and, well, it's . . ." She trailed off, a second passed and she mumbled. "No, not everything's alright." She finished quietly enough that Happy had to lean forward to hear her out.

"Why?" He questioned lightly, fidgeting with his cuffs, he was nervous she noted. She knew he knew the question was a little bit ironic since everything that had occurred in the last few weeks, _months,_ hadn't been a laughing matter, more like morbid tragedy of an old Greek play were everyone ended up dead anyway; despite bloody fights, inaccurately longings and heartrending ends.

Alas, the reasons of her current mood can be easily excused by rather anything at all. The abrupt end of the Stark Expo, though, she couldn't be more thankful for that, at the end it felt more like a last death wish, which was exactly what it was for Tony.

Pepper closed her eyes for a second, just to rest, a second, of it, the idea of death itself. Of losing what was already lost. _Happy is here_ , she reminded herself, _later_.

The downward of Hammer Industries after Justin Hammer complotted with the revenge-thirst socio-maniac Russian. The interference of SHIELD in their lives once again. She had to retell herself every time that it wasn't because of her nor the company that they came to bang in—thus the reason why they need to attach like a file people to keep an eye on them.

Also, she wasn't the one that stressed the living hell out of them.

Pepper knew Tony must have liked the red-head for a reason. That cause a mental shrug from her. Did she care? Definitely no. After what happen last week, she appeared to be caring for nothing anymore.

Did she regret? Definitely, yes.

They did saw each other the next day after the night of the roof.

Worst things always happen.

The next day, between the late hours of dawn, after some SHIELD agents, that unfortunately enough weren't the comforting face of Phil Coulson, debrief her on the ensued events of the arrest of Justin Hammer and else, they escort her where _he_ was.

Sometimes, not saying his name, even in her head, helped for a degree. The immeasurable degree that gave her sanity most of the time. One of the reason she'd have survived all of his exuberance from his past self.

"Miss Potts?" Pepper craned her neck to smile politely at the blank-faced SHIELD agent she was assigned to deliver her to the exit. "Do you need anything else?" There was a jet that would take her from the safe house or whatever place she was to the average civilization again.

Pepper shook her head in denial. The agent nodded off and left.

Then, there was his voice.

"Hey."

Her first reaction was to stay right on her place, maybe taking her phone out and pretend to be busy. With a silent curse she recalled the agent told her to turn it off until she was off radar. Well, then she wouldn't turn.

"Hey," Pepper replied back. Because there was simply nothing else to say. "What are you doing here?" She bit the inside of her cheek in mild annoyance. What kind of question was that?

Since he noted she didn't turn Tony strolled to be next to her. Albeit a meter of distance. The perfect respect of personal space. All this years and now he obeyed her instructions.

Irony, was it called, right?

Tony shrugged and grinned slightly at her. A shadow of his real smile, she knew. "Well, I was about to ask _you_ that. But, I guess we were kind of here for the same thing."

"Debriefing. So boring" They said simultaneously.

Pepper couldn't resist the mess he did of her emotions. She laughed freely and for a moment, a single flashing instant, he did it too.

They arrived to the jet.

With a smile on her face they arrived to the entrance. For a stupid, hopeful second she thought, imagine her naivety, maybe there was a mistake. Maybe, she could made him feel as happy as he did to her. Amid this buoyant idea, she turned to him, only for her smile to slide. She hoped nobody was noting her enough to notice the sudden change.

Tony wasn't looking at her anymore. Crystal clear while he walked by _her_ side he was gazing at the red-head spy and any other person than her. The spy didn't look at him back. But his action said more than enough. She wondered if he even knew why they were laughing about. Maybe, he was at laughing at her only.

Pepper lifted proudly her chin, her gaze unwavering from the front. Their pilot waved a signal at them, lowering the back, and allowing them to enter. She sat down, following the instructions and buttoning her seatbelt tightly enough.

"So, the press conference. What time should I be there?" Tony asked when he found his position across from her.

"Are you coming?" Maybe her words sounded harsher than they should.

"Yeah," He had his eyes down, multiple screen colliding in his phone screen, as usual, rules didn't apply to the one and only Tony Stark. "Sure, why not? Those reporters would probably eat whatever you tell them, I'm sure. But, anyway, I'll watch out for any cracked pal that may want to cause trouble." His eyes met hers, this was probably the longer they had seen each other since that lone—yes, that night. His eyes were neutral, like it would be no difference between speaking to her or the next pretty face that took her place.

Maybe that's what guide her to say everything she said.

Pepper looked him keen in the eye.

"You can do whatever you want. It's fine with me."

Pepper didn't know if it was the abrupt shuddered the ship gave. But Tony stopped his motion with the phone, his head lifted and he blinked at her. "What?"

Pepper lifted one shoulder in apathy at his hurt expression. Was he hurt? He was probably hiding a smile somewhere. To be finally free of her constant unnecessary worry. She glanced to the front of the ship, it was empty, and apart from the pilot they were the only ones in there.

"You heard me clearly, Tony." Pepper said tersely. She casted a look at him.

"I, yes, I just . . . why, what do you mean with that?" Tony stammered lightly, his voice sounded normal, his face was mildly hiding some sort of expression, his eyes blamed him though, they remained confused.

Patience lasted enough for a decade. Without holding back she told him the truth.

"Why should I even care for what you do? You're a grown man, have been since some time now, and I damn well know you don't really want my breath any longer on your neck. So, let's make a deal. You get over with your life, exploding whomever and whatever you want, doing whatever and _whomever_ you want. Just try to get Miss Sooner to do her own laundry, please." Pepper opened her eyes—when did she closed them?—and decided if she was going to end a eleven years friendship the last thing she could do is look him in the eye while doing it. She took a deep breath. "I really, _really_ don't care for what you do anymore, alright? My only work now is to watch out for Stark Industries. I'll watch that your company doesn't blow up to the stratosphere along with you, at the very least, for respect I'll be the best CEO I can be, alright?"

Pepper blinked rapidly. The words _did_ hurt to her. Something prickled on her eyes. But she refused to show him that. Truth be told, she had enough of games, enough of his smiling face, teasing grin, beautiful eyes, enough from his new-found purpose, of how proud that made her feel, of how worried it made her feel, of how she wanted to rip that helmet sometimes and kissed him until he forgot why he had ever had the need to see anyone else.

She had enough from _everything_ she couldn't have, not even dream to have.

If there was something, at least a tiny speck that said that he felt something because of her words of anger he didn't show it anymore. The small crack she saw earlier was gone. Although, he seemed unable to hide the obvious slump of his shoulders, the rapid movements of his eyes—as if he couldn't bear to see her right now.

He didn't answer right away. Pepper simply turned her eyes to one of the windows for the rest of the flight.

Somewhat between an hour and so she heard a body moving. She turned, even do she knew perfectly well who it was, she wanted to hear what he had to say. Would he pay her back the words with unforgiving words? Her palms were sweating. She didn't think she'll resist words from him.

"Will that make you happy?"

"What?"

The words were so quiet she barely heard them.

Tony didn't look up from his phone screen. He was seeing news, she noted.

"I said, will that made you happy? Really happy?" Tony questioned softly. His thumb hovered ghostly over the LED screens, moving them senselessly.

Pepper shook her head. "Happiness is overrated." She replied equally quiet, her voice flat.

Tony nodded, taking that as his response.

When they arrived home, Tony barely nodded back in acknowledgement before he was gone in his Audi, wheels screeching.

"Pepper? Pepper?"

Pepper blinked quickly to a very concerned Happy in front of her.

"Hey, should I bring you coffee?" Happy had his hand on her shoulder, until now she felt how he was shaking her gently.

"Happy," Pepper stood upright. "Uh, I'm sorry did you said something?" She rubbed tiredly her eyes. Now, she was tired.

Pepper peered behind his shoulder to the the white clock she hang there, time was ticking as ten minutes to six o'clock. Suddenly, a sigh escaped her lips, Happy—who was in front of her already—lifted his head instantly and was possibly even more alert than before.

However, she couldn't blame him. As his usual Happy self, he wasn't complaining for the extra hours she was here, or for the massive row of papers that seemed to have plagued every inch of her office or the fact where she sort of spaced out of the blue.

Suddenly, she remembered the last question Happy made her. _Why? Why isn't everything alright?_

I dream.

I want.

I lost.

Have I ever had?

I hurt.

"That's . . . a story for other day." Pepper replied after a long, extremely long pause. She stood up and stretch her arms, making circles with her hands.

Happy reach for her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "I think I should take you home, shouldn't I? Because I'll definitely take _you_ home, orders or not. Can't have the boss falling on my watch." Happy stepped back and gestured for the door. "So ma'am."

"If you call me ma'am again I'll probably start calling you sir." Pepper jested on her way to her desk. She opened briskly her suitcase and began placing some contracts that needed to be signed. Her house would be more reassuring than a cold office.

"Jeez." Joked Happy. "Imagine that, me, a sir. It'll nailed me, wouldn't it?"

This was probably what she needed, a friend making her smile.

For how long will that smile last?

They exited her office, Happy pulling close the door behind him. At this time, the whole staff was far gone. Whilst they entered the elevator she was thinking how she'll have to give Happy some day off and cards for a game or something to thank him for all his help. He was sweet without an ulterior motive. That made her smile as they descended on the elevator toward the parking lot.

"Do I really make you smile when I'm not talking like a parrot?" Happy said with his own smile, she remarked some kind of sigh that came from him when she laughed. Assurance? Relief? Was she that obvious at being sad?

The elevator doors ding open. Happy gestured and she began walking first. The limousine was some 50 meters from the door. Her heels did a clicking and clacking sound as they walked down on the cement. They chatted small, drifts of conversation until they arrived at the car.

While Happy was rounding the car from behind, she distinguished something in the back seat. Her eyes squinted to see. A box? Maybe, she received a package. Or was it a suitcase? Without waiting for Happy to open for her she threw opened the door.

The last thing she heard was Happy's yell of her name as the explosion came.

A white-hot flash of light engulfed her.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note** **: Thank you for your reviews! Guest Love and all! Keep them coming! I'm sorry for the delay, I assure you next one would probably be faster. Oh and feel free to review your opinions.**

 **Thank you for every follow/favorite it means a lot to receive feedback for my work!**

 _ **XxXxXxX**_

 **Misguided Ghosts**

 _ **XxXxXxX**_

 _ **Chapter 2**_

The lights were bright, too bright, and something was covering them, and her— _her_ eyes were closed? Pepper had the impulsive urge to blink and cough _hard._ For some reason she couldn't. _Why couldn't she?_ Fear rose like a bail on her throat, contracting it further. Somehow she heard voices; they drifted on and off, like the motion the crashing waves did when connected with the disappearing land.

Was she disappearing too?

To die is to regret.

But _, to love?_

The first and last thought that was on her mind, ever-present like the light, was his name.

 _Tony._

O-o-O-o-O

It took all his self-control not to follow through the set of red double doors. Happy raised his head and read over and over again the letter above them. EMERGENCY AREA and SURGERY. His head was swimming with nausea, terror and dread. Overall, the frustration and anger was winning over his logical senses. And how couldn't he? They didn't even let him stay in the waiting area. Why?

"Because you're not family _Mr. Hogan_. Please wait outside." Happy mimicked the tone the nurse used to dismissed him after they—against his will—bandaged a cut above his right eye, caused by some flying debris when the explosion occurred.

The explosion.

 _Pepper._

 _Tony._

 _Dammit._

Happy stood up, full well knowing he needed to, and he started to stroll through the white-shimmered hallways of the Hospital they found themselves in. He rounded a corner, ending up in the reception. His eyes instantly landed on the News Channel rolling on the nearest TV raised on a column. Multiple images—lenses zooming and flashes blinking uncontrollably against a well-known building for him. He didn't know how reporters managed to acknowledge the situation so soon. However, there they were, munching and eating alive every trace of the scene.

Happy closed his eyes, remembering the pulsating seconds, the bright light, try as he may he couldn't for the life of him know how he could've passed that. He frowned deeper as he remembered yelling her name, running late, coughing between the debris and shouting and calling for her, receiving nothing but frightful silent back. And then, he heard the soft groan next to him. Later, he saw the red below her.

"STARK INDUSTRIES seems to be in bad news only nowadays." Happy mumbled tiredly. As he was re-closing his eyes, someone spoke to his left. "You're right."

Happy opened his eyes to see who it was. Bodyguard typical stand. His eyes landed on a man—high cheekbones, strong jaw (he noted clearly as the man was pressing it tightly.) and the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen, accompanied with an ever-present blonde-colored hair.

"Yeah." Happy nodded. He eyed the man up and down, he looked fairly normal in a pair of denim jeans and black T-shirt, hands on his pockets.

"It sucks." The man stated, his lips suddenly quirking to the side. Happy didn't know if he was jesting or speaking truth. "I guess they had this expected, didn't they? With the name of their boss now branded as an armored hero and all. Pity he isn't here to help at all."

Happy shrugged his shoulders. "He's busy, I guess." He had the need to defend his boss but . . . wasn't the man right? His stomach lurched at the thought, he _didn't_ want it to be right. He knew perfectly well Tony was doing the right thing. Just, the wrong people were getting hurt because of it.

Oh, how they were.

Did that change the righteous in it?

Happy recognized the fact where he would gladly sacrificed to save the life of his closest friends. But he knew Tony would never forgive himself if something happened to them because of him.

Not even saying if Pepper got hurt.

Pepper _**was**_ hurt.

That was the problem.

Sincerely, Happy had no idea what happen tonight. He was at lost. Although, he had less of an idea what happened between those two. There were rather simple facts he recognized, they care for each other, what else did they need?

Leaving out the last few weeks he was aware of how much Tony cared for Pepper and vice versa. Sort of. But he did.

Happy knew and he was dreading the moment where he'll have to call him, situations be damned, he wasn't blind after all, issues or not he knew Tony would drop whatever he was doing and come here for Pepper. For _Pepper_ only. He knew Tony wouldn't control his anger as he was doing it right now, the person who did this would know what the real wrath of Tony Stark was like. After all, that's what Tony did now, he saved people, and it was a power, a mission, a duty.

"The end does not justify the mean."

"What?" Happy turned fully to the man, he blinked out his uncertain thoughts, not quite understanding what he heard. "What does that mean?" he asked, eyebrows knitted together.

"Sorry?" replied the blonde man, his arms were folded together in a casual manner. His eyes were strained on the TV. He had this nonchalant aura around him, like the world didn't matter. "You said something, bud?"

"I-uh." Happy muttered confusedly. He shook his head, because, really, he was hearing thing now. His ears were still ringing after all. "Listen, it's nothing – hearing things lately, doesn't matter." Clearing his throat lightly he let his eyes focus in the TV again. "I guess it's been a long night." He added tentatively.

He blew a breath. It was due time. He was going to call Tony now.

Just as he angled to nod off at the guy—he found none. There was nobody there. The man was gone.

Happy did jumped this time and hurried out of the door, skipping people in his way. The outsider world saluted him with a bright moon soaring in the pinnacle of darkness in the sky. His eyes, though, stayed in the level of ground, his eyes searching for the casual guy.

None.

He didn't like it for one second.

Although, maybe he was being paranoiac. Fishing his phone out, he dialed instantly Tony's number. After agonizing seconds all he received was the common beeping tone of an out of range number. His boss must be dealing with bigger problems at present, he mused. He inhaled deeply and start with a simple message.

With a sigh, he turn it off and plucked it on his pocket again.

He hoped as he looked up at the sky, he hoped Tony heard the message tonight at the very least.

With that Happy drew toward the entrance.

O-o-O-o-O

Rain began to fell in pools of water. People hastily searched for the interior and cover, somehow wanting to protect from the impending force of the flow. The young man smirked at their attitudes, not wasting another opportunity to mock the fearful people of the simple and natural things.

A black limousine came to a halt in front of him, he pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and entered the luxurious car without care.

"Privacy." He called to the contracted chauffeur behind the wheel. The chauffeur complied effortlessly not complaining for a second when the young man supported himself against the seat and propped his soaked legs on there—placing them comfortably at the same time moistening the coiffed seats.

Once the tainted window slide closed, he sought for his cell phone, eyeing each of the contacts and selecting a well-known one.

"I saw his bodyguard." He said instead of greeting once the call was answered. "He seemed pretty fine. Though, I guess the red-head caught the full-blast as we expected." A smirk crossed his features at the comment. Then, a small frown covered his face for a second. "I just hope her face ends up fine. It'll be a _shame_ to ruin such an appealing and charming face."

"Excellent." The man replied instantly, his tone satisfied. "And . . . was there _anybody_ else with her?" questioned the man, a sick hope on the inquiry.

"Nah." The young man shrugged, his gaze aiming for the windows. "Stark was nowhere to be seen. Actually, that seem as the main reason why everything happened. I don't think we would have had a chance at hurting her if Stark had been there." He chuckled humorlessly. "Protective, useless bastard. I guess everything was meant to be anyway."

"It certainly has." The man on the other line replied evenly. "Tell me, Alden, did you left what I asked you on the Hospital?"

Alden smirked first before answering. "I did. It was quite the success." He said, fingers drumming by his side. "Nobody noticed me at all, it helped that _everybody_ was distracted by the shocking news of an attack in the untouchable Stark Industries. I'll have to say thank you for that, dad."

"Don't thank me yet." Countered back the man. "Things need to progress far more if you want to be close to even thank me for my help. At least, until you know the cost for every course of action."

Alden scowled indignantly at his father obvious implications. "Sure, sir." He retorted back, tone grave, as he puffed air in annoyance. "I guess it's hard for you to say I'd done it fine so far."

" _So far_." The man replied in a beat. "I'm expecting it to continue that way. Are you thinking on changing it?"

"Of course not!" Alden exclaimed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, the car came to a halt. "Listen – you know what? – I just arrived to my hotel, I need to end the call. I'll call you—"

"Don't call me, I'll call."

Alden rolled his eyes at the secretive of his father. "Deal. Maybe, we'll even have the chance to see a reaction tomorrow."

"Let things take their own time – at the end, they always find their way to allocate."

"Okay." The driver began to roll down the privacy window. Alden saw the outlines from the five-star hotel where he'll be staying. At least, his father had the sense of class. "Al right—"

The man cut the call mid his good-bye.

Alden cursed loudly. "Right." His chauffeur opened slowly the door for him, he stepped out, now-covered by an umbrella, and fixed his eyes in a blank point in space. Time later when he found himself tucked in bed he slept with the tuneless sound of the upcoming misery hovering over his thoughts.

He smiled.

"I'll show you." He mumbled. "What suffer is, Stark."

O-o-O-o-O

 **Author's Note: Review!** **Tell me what you think. Good? Bad?**


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** **Thanks for every follow/favorite and all your reviews are well-welcomed. Thank you! I really loved writing this chapter.  
**

 **I hope you enjoy it too!**

 _ **XxXxXxX**_

 **Misguided Ghosts**

 _ **XxXxXxX**_

 _Chapter 3_

Sounds were reverberated as wide-spread echoes of time. A bitter cold coated the silvered white-shimmered mountains, freezing the already frozen things, freezing time and space, chilling him to the bones.

His breath was coming in short pants. He was on his knees, crouched from the pain at his side, will weakened and shaken. Orders were shouted by the men and woman that littered the site. From far the armor captured the vivid, distinctive sound of locks snapping open.

"Let's teach you a lesson of manners." Iron Man's voice threatened with a sly tone. Air filling his lungs once again.

A ring of bullets ricocheted against the suit in reply. Iron Man found himself cornered against them. Sharply, he bolted upright, arm extending in a clean vertical line as he leaned against a half-standing wall, and in a steadfast motion a series of small missiles spread off from small compartment on his arm—all while he measured details for later review at their weaponry, eyes doing a quick scan.

Missiles from all types and shapes, pistols, machine guns and any other imaginable nightmare he had was currently presented in front of his face. Ironically, he was being pained by his own works of life, works he thought in a distant remembrance—that were hardly to ignore—were already forgotten by his actions, by his efforts, the efforts to _forget._

But he still ended up rebounding his name as a call of death, the _merchant of death_ in all places, the more he cracked, the more it flooded out.

The world had memory after all.

Everybody had.

He propelled himself into the air.

The enemies scattered around, bodies trembling as they spotted the red-and-gold suit of armor hovering over them. Iron Man thrust into the air, repulsors blazing wildly. While his mind was half-divided in the given task, the other side was fighting for concentration. The only motivation why he went along with SHIELD's mission was for the reason that Fury knew well-enough what the mention of 'clandestine', 'Ten Rings' and 'Weapons Factory' did to him.

The muscles on his face tightened, daring himself to be on the present.

Some men barged ahead, shouting more words in unknown language for him and fired senselessly his way. He waited a few more seconds to see them all placed as he wanted them. "Play time." Tony said finally. "JARVIS? Repulsors ready."

"Charged at 63 percent, sir."

"Fine for me."

The end of his sentence was punctuated with the unmistakable sound of a long repulsor shot. Followed by another two. The men did as he calculated, stepping and involuntarily reaching the wanted point. He pin them down.

"Gentlemen," Iron Man called suddenly, they turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. "Ever heard of the domino effect on physics?" With a final, measured repulsor blast he hit squarely on the chest the right guy. All the men fell and unbalanced, in consequence, falling over each other.

A SHIELD ship was hovering nearby, he saw it from the corner of his eye.

"Well," Tony's mask slide open to reveal a half grin. "Never expected you to be the schooled type anyway."

O-o-O-o-O

"What time is it, J?" Tony questioned, his voice a little distorted as the bots dissembled the suit piece by piece. In less than a minute he was freed of his litigious alter ego. He didn't make a sound. The repetitive use of the process made him comfortable enough with it that these days he didn't even bat an eye at it anymore.

He stepped down, stumbling on some cans that were close on the floor.

Tony dropped his body to the sofa, hand reaching tentatively to the zipper at his side.

"Ten fifty, sir." JARVIS replied shortly. "Would I recommend the intake of pain killers?"

Tony laughed, then winced as a bruise that was currently growing at his back ached with the motion. He was unzipping his body suit skin, slowly, inch per inch. "Of course you may, J. My head's throbbing like hell now. Anyway," Tony echoed inside the empty room, he looked around, eyes searching for something he didn't even know if he had. "Where are they? Please tell me we have . . . As far as I know this place was brimming with them." He muttered thoughtfully.

At least, it was brimming with it because of the shams _the_ Tony Stark, living genius and extraordinary playboy did. The well-known drinker didn't last—even him—after full-blast intakes of alcohol without at least three white pills swallowed bitterly down his throat after long hours of celebration and _energetic_ activities.

Finally Tony reached the area of his legs, throwing aside the rest of the skin as he hissed quietly. Now unrestricted of the skin he tried to stand up and search for them, walking through the workshop in his underwear only. Modesty had never being his fitting suit.

"Right cabinet at your left, sir." JARVIS directed him helpfully. Tony rifled through some papers, not quite finding the pills right away on his desk. His eyes began to fall without reclaim. A yawn passed through his cracked lips. God, he felt _drained._

"JARVIS, there's nothing in here. Are you sure they are there?" Tony flinched again as he craned his neck to fix his annoyed, tired voice toward the ceiling. His eyes were narrowed, the fatigue wearing him off along with his temper. He slammed shut the cabinet. Though, the next words withdrew all his anger away.

"I'm quite sure, sir. I can request Miss Potts for her to confirm you." JARVIS's electronic voice replied easily as if it was nothing out of the common. "She placed them there last month as she usually does."

Which it exactly was.

"I—No" Tony babbled instantly, his eyes sliding shut to help him reason. "JARVIS, just, we _can_ find it, I don't need, I mean _us_ , I _mean_ —" He ran a hand through his face, sighing wearily. He stumbled simply because he was a living dead exhausted man and when they mention to you your poison, you fall unceremoniously to your knees and gulped it at one go.

Why was happening that it keep coming back?

The sudden silence made a sudden, unrealistic panic rise up on his throat. "JARVIS?" Tony called hesitantly. "You there?" As if he expected someone else to respond.

Hope was unreal.

"For you sir, always." The British accented voice boomed inside his workshop. _Big, hollow place,_ his mind added to the description of his space.

Tony puffed air, he must be tired, and that's it. Nothing out of the normal, nothing to be worried about, nothing to hope for, nothing to care, nothing to say— _no one there_.

Tony shook his head.

 _Just concentrate._ "Turn off the lights, JARVIS." Tony said, his voice smooth. "We're off for the day."

 _Don't think._

JARVIS complied without demur. Soon, the workshop was casted by a dim light only. Barely and excusable enough to walk by. Tony eyed the stairs with a sense of dread. Groaning quietly only to himself he chose the quickest way as so dragging his body to the set of elevator doors.

Stepping inside his house - after the painful instances of constant hours driven by adrenaline, resolve and a heavy sense of purpose and need - officially made him sigh in relief. His tense muscles finally relaxed. It all happened at once. When he acknowledged the outstanding fact where he fared to survive one more day on the outsider world.

Surviving sometimes meant arriving back to reality.

Reality was a bitch.

"Honey, I'm home," Tony breathed as soon as the doors slide open. "Told you not to wait up for me." He added quietly.

The first thing his eyes regarded upon was for some sort of proof. Proof of what? _That she was here? I should keep dreaming_. Tony stepped forward, his feet resounding on the marble floor of the open wide living room. "JARVIS?" He called distractedly as he poured himself a drink. "How long was I gone?"

Sipping his drink he anticipated the answer. The small pieces of ice hanged from side to side on the glass he picked. With the soft glow of the arc reactor they gleamed as translucent dots.

"Approximately Twelve hours, sir." Jarvis replied.

"Huh," Tony mused out loud, his mouth quirking to the side. It wasn't as much as he thought at first. "Any missed call from the unmentionable secret agency?"

"There aren't any forwarded messages from SHIELD, sir."

"Right." In one gulp, the drink was gone. The second one was half-way served when his jaw was forced, contemplating. An idea invaded his mind, trying to held it captive as it more usual than not did by this time of the day, when his barriers where down, when he ought no drive to fight, when he consent himself to be his real self. When all the ramifications of his life dawned on him like a sudden strike of unreasoning.

When he missed her mostly.

"J, how's—" Tony stopped himself mid-sentence. What was he going to ask? _Hey, how's Pepper? How is she? Is she fine?_ What was the hard part of asking that? _It meant nothing, didn't it? Why should it?_ She's simply your friend? She _was_ your friend.

A friend you push away.

 _Common, hypocrite bastard just call her, made her suffer more, and made both of you suffer_ _more! Common, do it!_

 **Hadn't you done it already?**

"Sir?" JARVIS chimed in as he stared at the nothingness. "There's some registered call from—"

The voice from his ever-faithful AI drifted off. He vaguely heard something about some calls. He couldn't care less. Permitting himself to remember, he tried to console the idea of that day. The day where he clearly threw everything he really fought for to the trash without a second thought.

...

Quitting, how can she quit? And … _Leave?_ The words spread across his body, he froze, immediately he asked for assurance he hadn't misheard.

He hadn't.

A thousand and one thoughts had ran through his head, each one of them madder than the last one. The first logical sense that crept on him was the sense of the immediate doom of lone living. Fear, unlike the adrenaline-induced one he numbed during the despicable battle against haters and killers, constricted his throat, closing it. Brilliancy wasn't always a privilege despite what people say. His mind conjured the relations between her words in a quick, too quick succession of mixed-up panic and fear of loss; if she quit _, she left,_ if she left, _I had her no more_ , and if I had her no more, _what would be left of me?_

He was rambling, panic sipping from his heart, for a second he wildly believed pain flowed through his veins, his heart beating only because of it, of it solely.

Realization hit him like a train, the air left his lungs. The spur of the epiphany of maximal proportions he had made him dumbfounded.

 _She deserves better,_ He had told her, for the life of him blocking any trace of regret and pain from his voice. He inclined for the more than well-deserved _thanks_ _for being there for me every single time I needed you, I'd always know if the world was to turn against me, I'll had you at the very least always, indispensable at my side. The place where you should always be._

The words that made it out were, "You deserved better. It's okay."

The relief and slight exhaled from her at his words made his stomach flop in dread. She must be exhausted from me. Who wouldn't?

"Thank you." Pepper replied.

Seeing her face, observing inclusively her eyes—the softest shade of blue that rivaled the deepness of the sea, those eyes he _ached_ to dive himself in—if he continued to see her eyes in silent he would backtracked in his words. He couldn't do that to her, he had done far more than what she should support. He knew she was cunning and strong-willed, but, that didn't mean he had to prove that fact every week to recognize it was right.

SO, he started to speak about the damage control. It was clear, his disarrays needed equaled wide-ranging cleaning teams. She clicked in naturally as expected though she also began to ramble her own words. Their voices mixed in common ground, arguing and finishing each other sentences. His brain stopped connecting with his actions the moment that gentle mouth of hers jested about dogs and him.

He kissed her.

Almost, he did almost halt himself from the surprise. Waves of shock spread through him as his mouth slide with hers soundly. They fitted so, so perfectly. He wasn't the cliché guy, all his life he'd rejected broadly the idea, the single, everlasting and sick idea of _love._

 _Love?_

 **Was it real?** his mind yelled, whispered somehow inside him as her hands searched and pulled from his hair, he couldn't suppress the tremble from her possessive movements, like she owned some part of him and she was finally proclaiming it after a long, the longest pause.

He was paused, something inside him clicked and twirled _on_ as she leaned her head, grating him access to her. He complied by feeling her, how could he not? Never in a thousand years he would have believed this moment was true, that it was happening. That Pepper Potts would let _him_ kissed her. All those times he pushed away those feelings - those uncalled, uncharacteristically and unreasonably desires and warmth perceptions he felt every time he'd made her laugh or rolled her eyes at his antics. How he had this strange sense of fulfilling and pride whenever she was close. _He was in love with her._

The idea was so clear.

Tony Stark was undoubtedly in love with Pepper Potts.

He did almost snatched her from the floor in that second, just to swivel her around and hugged her and kissed her and do another thousand other things to show her _just_ how much she mattered, how _essential_ she was.

Breath became inevitable.

The impact of the revelation made him _need_ to lean against the closest supportable thing. His lungs screamed for the force yet he couldn't bring himself to care for the slight more pain he had caused to himself. He will gladly suffer for her in any given moment.

Faintly, he sensed the smell of smoke, debris and mild fear still in the air. His body was sore, and he probably stink even worse yet she hadn't scrunch her nose or even pushed him away as he thought at first she will.

Pepper kissed him _back._

A giddy smile threatened to curl up from his mouth.

Her face was so close, and she was breathing just as him. Instead of smugness he felt the sudden bashfulness that he had truly made her breathless _for real_ by kissing her air out. God did her face glowed, a special shine was being projected on her features when she nervously tucked bangs of her brilliant hair behind those delicately made ears. How he wanted to reach and, for the smallest of contacts, touch her frame and soothe her, tell her that he would reach and create a brave new world for her, _just for her_ , and help her wash all her worries away to never be seen again.

But just as all crystalline glasses, the idea fogged suddenly on his mind.

He noted something on her face, a small, insignificant cut on the corner of her jaw. He knew he hadn't made it. Still, he noted. It wasn't the cut itself that made him realize rather than the whole reason of the existence of it.

The smile slip little by little, his eyes lost the glow that was there seconds ago. His heart slowed down to the point where it came to a _halt._ He froze as, for the second impossible time in the night, the idea of losing rose on his mind. He imagined a life with him, happy times that were thought at first with eagerness started to pale at the implications of shadows started to cast to the light.

His mouth was dry—he couldn't, he had the urge to shake himself, he couldn't, he _wasn't_ about to do what he had just thought.

Just then she started to speak.

"Tony?" She called softly. Her eyes searching his.

He couldn't bring himself to break her heart right away. He began jesting but soon the idea of smiling after what he was about to do seemed hypocrite. His face closed down. The idea of letting her go was impossible. Wasn't he the one who was seconds ago letting her go? But, he wasn't! His mind was just trying to comprehend how a life without her will be like.

Dull and unbearable weren't the precise words.

Heart-breaking maybe.

His heart felt like shattering.

He'd tried to reason— _reason,_ Pepper always appealed for reason, maybe reason would spare him of the unbearable acts. As he spoke and laughed a gasping, awful sound he knew her face had only masked with confusion.

Hell, he was of confused too.

The blood rushed to his head, making his thoughts swim without aim. At the same time heart hammered inside his chest, maybe in denial of everything he did. With an assure purpose, trembling body and dreadful words, he inhaled deeply and tossed everything aside, knowing the best way to do these things was with the selfish, well-known Tony Stark charisma.

The mask he was aware she hated to death.

Her hands fidgeted at the front of her dress. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were begging him to stop, his eyes sidetracked, searching for the cracked city confirming what he was doing was the right thing, she would thank him later—how could she looked _so_ beautiful and brokenhearted at the same time?

There was this immeasurable second when he did almost fell to his knees and plead for forgiveness at what he had just said. From the moment a single tear—that was cause by him—rolled by the side of her face, he knew what he had just done.

He gritted his teeth.

Pepper was the epitome of class under pressure. Her polite smile was so minor compared to any other expression he'd seen in her. Immediately, he took the opportunity to bend down, absent mindlessly checking his boots, just to close his eyes, breath in and breathe out, he felt a pressure in his chest, like he had swallow a brick and was trying to continue living with the added limit.

He wanted—no needed to get out of there. The area wasn't safe, remotely from being close to safe, he couldn't leave her here, there was no way – unless she denied and _she did_. He would let her then. No force, no pressure, no devoting.

The words exploding and expo flew out of her mind carelessly. Flashes of fire, flames and the impending death mirrored his vision. He had almost lost her there. And she didn't even grasped the magnitude of it.

That was why he was letting her go.

Because he loved her.

Because he wouldn't endure to be without her, not even a day.

Because he won't stop being Iron Man.

If he kill her, he would probably die of something akin to that, by his own hand.

Thus the reason to break her heart in a million pieces. And break his in the process. It was so clear in her stare, the also undetectable quiver on her chin, the one he knew she was suppressing by each passing second. He half-hardheartedly told her how miracles could happen. Because hope for something that could-have-been-better was the only thing that could help him move on in the far future.

She'd told him miracles didn't happen.

Not for her.

Certainly, not for him either.

"Christ." Tony murmured inside his suit as he thrust into the night. "You had to always be right, don't you?"

...

Tony exhaled sharply. His eyes burning slightly, nothing to do with his drinking. He threw back his head, staring at the ceiling _hard._ Daring himself not to blink. His smile was insignificant and broken. Full-well knowing he deserved everything he felt and more. _Anything for her, anything for you, Pepper._ "Including breaking my own heart." He said quietly to himself.

During some moment amid his thinking Tony had sagged against the closest wall. "You know what, JARVIS?" He pushed himself away from where he was, his eyes drifting between every corner of his space, eyeing all. Every single thing reviving a memory of her. The slight trace of her perfume in the air was the final painful remembrance that she no longer was and would never be _his_.

But that's what he wanted, wasn't it?

His eyes locked on the empty living room. Specially, on the empty sofa. And how couldn't they? They drifted to the _very_ full bar. "It's nothing that can't wait for tomorrow. Go to sleep."

He couldn't help but feel the feeling he was lost.

With a dry chuckle he discerned exactly what it was.

The third glass was up and far gone when JARVIS went to sleep mode without another word to his creator.

O-o-O-o-O

 **Author's Note: Review! On n** **ext Chapter you know** _ **exactly**_ **what would happen, don't you?** _ **No?**_ **Well, let's just say a certain someone discovering a particular something.**

 **So, more reviews, more chapters, you know the deal, motivation and all!**


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